Strokes
by sprinterwinter
Summary: Harry goes to Privet Drive for the summer and is sent to Swim Camp.At the camp he meets a young muggle girl who he falls in love with. Will their relationship work? And will Harry learn how to swim the Fly? Learn the answers to these questions and more! P


Chapter 1

Treading Water

Harry sighed as he pushed his hair off his sweaty forehead. It had

been a long year. He had finally realized, although it hurt, that his

(Now ex) girlfriend, Cho Chang, was not over Cedric. Hermione and Ron

had hooked up, dated and broken up, which put quite a strain on the

group's friendship. The classes were getting harder, and then there was

the fact that Sirius was dead. Dead. It was still hard for Harry to

understand. He had seen so much death, but this one was different. It

was so personal and so unfair .The last year Harry felt like his life,

after Sirius's death, was paused. It had the unreal quality of a dream.

He had decided that there is an event in everyone's lives that is so

big you can divide your life into before and after.

"Platform 9 and 3/4!" yelled the conductor. Harry shook himself

mentally and gathered up his things. He grabbed the overhead bar as the

train screeched to a halt. The doors slid open with a hiss and a rush

of dirty, humid, air filled the compartment. Harry sighed again and

stepped onto the platform. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were standing

on the platform looking uncomfortable. Their previously starched

clothes were melting in the sweltering atmosphere inside the train

station. Uncle Vernon greeted Harry with a grunt, and gestured the

direction in which they had parked. The car ride home was uneventful.

His aunt and uncle asked the usual polite questions and then lapsed

into silence. After Sirius's death, they had treated Harry differently.

They no longer bullied him. They acted as if he were a very fragile

porcelain statue. This would have been disconcerting to Harry, but he

didn't really notice, or care.

"Harry!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "Come down here!" Harry looked up

from where he was lying prostrate on his bed. He got to his feet and

ambled slowly down the stairs.

"Harry," he said again, "I... ahhh... I've signed you up for a sports

camp" It took a moment for it to sink in.

"What kind of Spots." Harry said dangerously. "I don't play sports,

I can't even swim"

"Well," said Uncle Vernon, "You've guessed it! You are going to a

swim camp."

Harry's beautiful green eyes flashed through a wide array of

emotions. Uncle Vernon watched anxiously for which they would settle

on. Finally, their normal slightly glazed look returned.

"Fine," he said disinterestedly, "I guess it's time I learned."

"It starts tomorrow, so you better go get packed. Two weeks and

Petunia put your suit in the closet!" Vernon called after him, as

Harry wandered upstairs.

The next morning, Harry vaguely remembered throwing some clothes, a

swimsuit, a towel, and goggles into a bag the night before. As he

waited in the pre-dawn light for the camp bus, he wished he had thought

this over a bit more. His nasty feeling of apprehension increased as he

boarded the bus and saw the other swimmers. They were all tan and

obviously more muscular than he was. Obviously the work out he got from

Qudditch was nothing compared to swimming. He found an open seat and

settled in for the long bus ride.

Chapter 2

In Over Your Head

As the bus pulled up to the camp entrance, the nervous feeling in

the pit of Harry's stomach intensified. He could see rows of small,

brown cabins marching tidily from the piney woods to the shores of a

large lake. A lager, similar brown building bore a sign that said "Mess

Hall." However, the most distinctive object in this panorama was the

colossal glass structure that supposedly contain the "Olympic- size

swimming pools. And 10, 20 and 30 meter diving boards."

Harry climbed out of the bus and walked over to the large group of

twenty-some year olds waving a large sign with these words written on

it. "Hi, we're your counselors!" A very tan, very muscular woman with

long, light brown hair was calling off the names of campers and their

cabins.

" Randolph Smith, Bill Jones, Alex Rider, and Harry Potter, you'll

be in cabin #3." Harry looked around to see who his cabin mates would

be. He noticed Alex and Bill first as they had been sitting in front of

him on the bus. He did not see Randolph. He checked the map he had

gotten from a counselor at some point during the bus ride. Cabin #3 was

to his left, and close to the lakeshore. He started walking towards it,

thinking he would meet his bunkmates when he arrived.

He was just beginning to unpack his bag when Alex and Bill walked in

together. Bill was a freckly blond with hazel eyes. He was on the

taller side, and, if Harry were a girl, he would undoubtedly have found

him sexy. Alex looked slightly nerdy. He had dark brown hair with

caramel highlights, and it just barely grazed his jawbone. He was of a

medium build and wore wire-rimmed glasses. They knew each other

already, they swam on the same swim team. Their first question was,

"What's your stroke?" Harry could see his problems multiplying. "I'm

not sure," he replied, "I'm just starting." They looked at him

curiously, and began talking about their times on the 500 fly. Randolph

walked in just as Bill and Alex were starting in on their 400 by 4 IM

relay. He had red hair like Ron's but the similarities ended there.

Randolph was a deeply tanned, powerfully built boy with enormous

shoulders. He was tall and had piercing blue eyes creased with good

humor.

He tossed his bag on the bed next to Harry's, the last remaining one.

"Hi," he said, "My name's Randolph, who are you?"

"My name's Harry," Harry replied. "Nice to meet you."

Just then, a bell rang loudly from the direction of the mess hall. "

Dinner time!" Bill and Alex shouted gleefully. They had camped there

for the last 8 years. Harry, cabin #3, and the rest of the camp rushed

towards the mess hall. After everyone had sat down at one of the many

long tables (similar to the house tables.), the camp director stepped

up to the podium.

"Hello campers!" He said, "I'm Stanley Basely, I'm your camp

director, and head swim coach." He paused and cleared his throat. "

Campers, swimmers, I will push each and every one of you harder than

You harder than anyone has ever pushed you before. When you leave this camp you will

have dropped at least 10 seconds from your time in everything." Harry

stared at the director, wondering if there was any possibility this was

a bad dream. He was beginning to realize that he was in way over his

head.


End file.
